Read and learn new words!

At the heart of the current debate about literary studies in Singapore lies a paradox.

As
is now clear, the city-state suffers from a horrifyingly low take-up
rate of O-Levels Literature. Yet, it is also capable of producing a
world-class literary translation journal, in the form of Asymptote.

Started by Singaporean writer and visual artist Lee Yew Leong
only two years back, Asymptote was nominated for magazine of the year
alongside reputable titles such as the London Review of Books and Times
Literary Supplement by the Paris-based 3:AM literary magazine in 2011.

To a literary critic mindful of this contradiction, the Singapore Story must read like Romeo and Juliet.

Both
intimate to the possibility of success against all odds. Much as Friar
Laurence, in Shakespeare’s tale, hatches an elaborate plot for Juliet to
fake her death so that the star-crossed lovers can finally be together,
the curious case of Asymptote accords us a glimmer of hope that a
technocratic society such as ours can beget a literary gem.

But
something has also gone terribly wrong. In the play, the Friar’s
messenger did not reach Romeo in time to warn him of Juliet’s deceit
and, thinking she was really dead, our doomed protagonist committed
suicide. Similarly, literature’s dwindling presence in the Singapore
Story has much to do with miscommunication — the failure to explicate
our need for it.

NOVEL IDEAS

Are we to despair? To
answer this is to consider the debate ensuing from the precarious state
of literature as an O-Level subject. Here, there are several overarching
assumptions that need a rethink.

The first is the utilitarian
view of literature that colours the reactions of the “pro-Lit” camp.
Aggrieved by Senior Minister of State (Education) Indranee Rajah’s
revelation in Parliament that there are now only about 3,000 students
taking literature, compared to 16,970 in 1992, this group argued for the
need to recognise literature’s worth — that it imparts critical
thinking skills, makes us more creative, and teaches us values.

While
viable, such responses reproduce the very conditions that led to the
subject’s decline. That is, we are still speaking in the language of
economic pragmatism where something is deemed valuable only because it
is of some use.

If literature is needed, it must not be because it
can offer us something in return. We need it because of a more primal
reason — we simply cannot live without it.

If there is anything
to be learnt from Yann Martel’s Life of Pi, it is that humans are
meaning-seeking creatures hardwired for narratives. We tell stories to
make sense of the world, imagine alternatives and explore our neuroses.
We need literature like we need air.

Another nuance missing from
the debate is the distinction between two ideas of literature — the
uppercase “L” kind, and the lowercase “l” type.

The first
(Literature) denotes an official discipline, while the latter
(literature) refers to a lifestyle. Rather than lament the dearth of the
first phenomenon, as is the case, the debate has conflated the two.

Without
recourse to data detailing the reading and writing habits of
Singaporeans, it is as yet unclear whether the practice of “literature”
is in peril. It may be that we are already leading literary lives. If
so, then there is no need to fear the decline of “Literature” as an
O-Level subject.

But if a literary culture is found to be
wanting, then it is indeed time to push the panic button. Singapore must
avoid a situation where literature becomes an elitist venture,
practised only by a select few.

A final irony governing the debate concerns stereotypes.

The
discourse of the “pro-Lit” camp to uphold Literature as the panacea to
moral ills suggests that someone with no literary background is less
moral or more robotic. Subscribing to such a typecast is unliterary, and
goes against the cosmopolitan ideal that Singapore professes to
embrace.

My experience in 2011 teaching an elective humanities
module at the Nanyang Technological University suggests engineers and
scientists are just as capable of appreciating nuances and transcending
silos.

THE WRITE PATH

Bearing these in mind, it is
not yet time to despair over the low take-up rate of O-Levels
Literature. Yet this also does not mean that educators should allow
stasis to set in.

With parliamentarians set to discuss ministry
policy at the Committee of Supply debates following the current debate
over the Budget, here are some practical suggestions to mull over.

If
we accept the view that humans are naturally predisposed for
narratives, it is important that Singapore offers everyone a chance to
tap their inner literati. Translated into policy, this may mean making
literature compulsory at all levels in secondary schools.

Yet,
Singapore must also avoid the trappings of economic pragmatism lest we
repeat the same mistakes. If students are averse to the subject because
of the pressure to perform, the way forward then is to somehow remove
that pressure.

Here, educators can consider several suggestions
such as making Literature a non-examinable subject and assessing
students by way of essays instead. A more radical option is to remove
grading entirely and transform Literature into a pass-or-fail module.

Only by being bold can Singapore imagine a better literary future.

Nazry
Bahrawi is a research associate at the Middle East Institute, National
University of Singapore, and lecturer at the Singapore University of
Technology and Design.